


quiet with you

by ghostwit



Category: One Piece
Genre: Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, No Spoilers, Post-Time Skip, They're trans but it doesn't really come up ahah. Could've snuck it in somewhere but didn't manage., something soft... ah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 18:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20587178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostwit/pseuds/ghostwit
Summary: SBS, Vol. 87: "Those two are good friends, and at the same time they loved being partners from the beginning..."The captain and the first mate of the Kid Pirates share some moments of intimacy, or perhaps, in their world, simply each other's company.





	quiet with you

His eyes are dark, cast in shadow by the perpetual furrow of brow, thumb-smeared charcoal undersetting the waterline and overwhelming any impressions of puffy under eyes, their perpetual dilation the edge of the shore at sunset; when the water turns to ichor and quavers at the impossibly dark edge of land, a violent, angry twitch and pulse at the attention of keen ears. Clean, flat planes of pale skin, constantly flecked with oil, grime, gore, and underneath, the barest dusting of light brown sloping into a wide neck, pulled tight and made twitchy from constant tensing. Killer puts his mouth, bare this evening, over the ridge of bone of Kid’s left cheek, silently captivated by the cleanliness of the porcelain skin, perfect symmetry cutting into the man’s jagged existence. It’s soft, petal on bone, warming quickly under the older’s mouth, and he presses until he can feel the insistent firm of cheekbone against the resistance of his teeth through the plush of his lip, his half-raised mask applying soothing pressure to his captain’s left eye and temple. The redhead brings his right hand up to fist in the older’s hair, right at the base of his neck, and the blonde feels a slight tug as Kid lazily sets his fingers against, between, over the metal bar running from either side of his helmet. Crooked again, overlapping softly and sliding with the soft shuff of skin-on-metal. Something about symbolism flickers through his mind briefly, but it’s enough to make Kid’s half-lidded gaze, still twitching, drag lazily to Killer’s face.

  
“Fuck you smiling about?”, his captain’s almost slurring, still running on the adrenaline thrumming through his veins. His painted lips are stretched into a grin, the idiotic smirk of the Glorious Bastard. The blonde simply sighs against his cheekbone in response, withdrawing. Kid’s fingers on the metal bar of the helmet become more insistent, and Killer lifts a hand into the space between their heads (Kid whines at this, childish and keening), uses the brunt of his palm to let the helmet slide back fully, whooshing against his hair. Eustass catches it, one-handed (He makes sure to leave a bloody smear along the back, smiling to himself at his staked claim), staggering ever so slightly at the weight, and sets it gingerly by their feet with his prosthetic. Their foreheads knock, graceless, and they pass air between the two of them; Kid giggles, all air and no gut, puffy and warm, nothing but the ruddy scent of iron and sharp, nasal burn of alcohol, tinged with grease. Tactless as always, Eustass moves to slide his fingers under the hem of the blonde’s shirt, yanking sharply to part the long hair as he does. Killer allows himself a gasp at the action, if only to see the way his captain’s eyes practically glow at the noise, smoldering. Kid tips his mouth into his, one hand clenching at the tight planes of muscle in his lower back in a grip that conveys only possession, the soothing skimming of his thumb in tight circles undercutting the sensation with a sense of tenderness. Killer lets himself be overwhelmed, Kid’s tongue hot and foreign as it licks along the ridges of his teeth-- more of an exploration than a proper kiss, another staked claim, and the blonde sighs into it, lifting his arms to rest his elbows on the younger’s shoulders.

* * *

“Wash your mouth,” Kid laughs, hair, uninhibited, splayed beneath him in a ray, a coquelicot halo against the dilute white of hotel sheets, made stark in contrast. It runs up his neck and shoulders in tangles, mussed beyond even its usual state of disarray, and Killer swallows around the words in his mouth as the younger looks up at him from the pillow, Killer’s own back flush to the headboard and knees propped. Kid wordlessly tugs him down by a fistful of straw-colored hair, lets their mouths slot against each other; He swallows his words for him, seeking their sanctimonious silence. The elder gags into his mouth, and Kid simply smiles into the kiss, threading fingers up to yank at the base of Killer’s skull when the blonde’s hands paw at the expanse of his bare chest to push him away. Killer hisses, makes an arc of little red half-moons near the junction of Eustass’ shoulder, right below a carefully placed bruise, and the redhead releases him with a snicker.

  
“Nice ass.” Killer resists the urge to snap his head back as he rises, Kid’s boxers loose around the lean of his thigh and hands clutching the top sheet to wrap loosely around his shoulders and chest like a cape, keeping his unruly hair pressed flat to his back. He moves to make his way to the suite bathroom, but the younger man has his thighs bracketing the other’s knees, snaking his hand between the seam of his legs to run his fingers over Killer’s thigh, raking little lines of fast-fading white into tanned skin with painted nails, the stump of his other arm a soft pressure on the blonde’s hip. Killer chuckles, still loose and high on intimacy, and he can feel Kid go stock-still with glee at the breathy _fa-fa-fa_\--something utterly private, just for him, something greater than the blood Killer let him spill and the bruises he let him leave--before he lets his full weight drop back onto Kid, making the younger bark into the sheet that covers him, wind knocked out of him by his broad first-mate.

  
“Hey, hey!” Killer wastes no time in rising, stepping to the door as Kid works to disentangle himself from the sheet.

  
“You’re heavy, asshole!” His voice drips anger, but his face is nearly split with the weight of his smile. He rises to meet Killer in the doorway, rests his head on his shoulder to press closed-mouth kisses to the cord of lipstick-smeared bruises dotting the man’s trapezius, the skin hot to the touch. Killer sets the water to run cold, flicking a few drops into Eustass’ face with his forefingers, making the other flinch and pull a face, even as he works his tongue over every blemish with an uncharacteristic delicacy. He uses the water to smear away the lipstick over his chest, smiles softly at the rich color of the bruises below, nearly the same, simply lacking the glossy bite of the makeup. Marked wholly. The redhead’s eyes don’t leave the pinched curve of Killer’s smile until his attention is drawn to his eyes--intense, warm. In them: _for you, my captain_. It overwhelms Kid, and he whines uselessly into his first mate’s shoulder, ducking his head for a split second. Killer moves to wash his hands, staring into the swirling water and running his nails over the scarring of his wrists, watching the suds pool in the crepey, off-color skin. He feels his eye twitch. He’s brought back up to the vanity by a sharp bite, and Eustass’ eyes are on his again, teeth bared into a grin, just barely visible over the swell of his shoulder. Killer’s breath hitches in his throat. He's absolutely stunning in the morning light, blaze of hair against Killer's skin and golden eyes catching, mussed and make-up in artful disarray over those dusted panes of cheek, but even better, the way he slots himself around the blonde. Their entwinement, easy and natural and speaking only of partnership, being his captain's equal. The entire scene overwhelms him, and he knows that Kid has one up on him (not really, not really). His captain's gaze becomes more insistent: _For you. I love you._

**Author's Note:**

> I just love these motherfuckers. Something about their relationship is so special... sides they have only for each other, yet the both of them being entirely true to their image. Gets to me. They don't hide from anyone, but some things can only be detected by a trained eye, I guess.
> 
> Thank you, please validate me xx.


End file.
